


The Snow Child

by wolfwithwoodenteeth



Series: The Bloody Chamber [2]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Jealousy, Necrophilia, The Snow Child AU, Underage Rape/Non-con, don't even ask me why I wrote this, sort of i guess, the story just reminded me of these characters, this is dark and doesn't portray Lysa and Petyr in a favourable way
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-29
Updated: 2018-04-29
Packaged: 2019-04-27 07:27:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14420502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wolfwithwoodenteeth/pseuds/wolfwithwoodenteeth





	The Snow Child

They'd been riding for days when it suddenly started snowing, and it didn't take long for the moors all around them to be covered in a thick white blanket. Petyr pulled the reins and stopped, gazing at a pristine patch of snow. "I wish I had a girl as white as snow," he sighed.

Lysa's gloved fingers clenched on the saddle's pommel. Her last pregnancy had marred her once fair face with tawny spots and she wondered whether her husband was bothered by it that much. 

They travelled on, until they happened across a weirwood tree. Petyr dismounted and sat down with his back against the bark and glanced up at the foliage. "I wish I had a girl as red as weirwood leaves."

Lysa huffed and turned her back on him. Her own auburn hair hung down her back in a long thick braid, but it had lost its luster over the years. 

After a while they both mounted their horses again and continued. It stopped snowing and the sky cleared up, turning bright and blue. Petyr angled his face up and exclaimed: "I wish I had a girl as blue as the sky!"

Lysa didn't have the chance to ponder his latest wish, because right in front of them, by the side of the road, a young girl had appeared out of thin air. She had a mane of thick auburn curls, skin as fair as snow, eyes as blue as a sunlit sea, and she was completely bare.

"Come here, sweet child," Petyr invited her, offering his hand to help her up on his mare. He lifted her into the saddle, covering her with his cloak, and Lysa felt bile rise in her throat. Who did this silly little girl think she was, trying to steal her husband?

After half a mile, she took off her glove and tossed it into the snow. "Oh no!" she exclaimed. "I dropped my glove. Will you go and fetch it for me, sweet girl?"

The girl looked at her with wide eyes and nodded, but Petyr stopped her with a hand on her arm. "Don't bother," he told her. "I'll buy you a new pair of gloves in the next town, my lady."

Lysa narrowed her eyes at his back, vexed that her plan hadn't worked. She sat fuming in silence as they travelled on, trying not to look at the beautiful girl sitting between her husband's thighs.

A glimmer caught her eye. When she saw a pool which hadn't been frozen over yet, she removed her brooch and threw it into the water. "Oh no!" she exclaimed. "I lost my brooch. Will you go and fetch it for me, sweet girl?"

The girl made an attempt to slide down to the ground, but Petyr wrapped his arm around her. "Have you lost your mind, my lady? She'll freeze to death in the water! I'll get you another one, a prettier one, with more gems."

Lysa averted her eyes, her bare knuckles turning white from the force with which she was gripping the reins. Desperately, she kept trying to think of a new plan to get rid of the girl, until they happened upon a rose bush which was still blooming, even in the dead of winter. The roses springing from it were blue as frost and the sight of them took her breath away.

"Oh gods!" she exclaimed. "Look at those wonderful roses! Will you go and fetch one for me, sweet girl?"

The girl dismounted, and this time Petyr didn't stop her. "How could I deny my wife such a lovely gift?" he wondered aloud with a smile.

The girl reached out to pick a rose and dropped to the ground. When Lysa approached her, she could see she'd pricked her finger on a thorn. She was no longer breathing. 

Petyr leapt off his horse and removed his cloak, stalking toward the girl. Lysa stood frozen as she watched him unlace his breeches and lower himself onto the girl's body. She turned away in disgust, but she could still hear what he was doing, so she clasped her hands tightly over her ears to shut out the sound of his grunts as he thrust again and again and again.

Her head was spinning, her stomach lurched and she had to force back the tears, but she did nothing. She only tried to stumble away from the thing she couldn't bare to see or hear, unable to stop herself from turning around again just in time to see him tuck himself back into his breeches.

The girl melted away like snow before their eyes. All that was left of her was a heap of weirwood leaves and the blue rose she'd picked earlier. Still slightly panting, Petyr bent down to retrieve it.

He bowed and offered the rose to Lysa. "For you, my lady."

She took it from him and cried out, dropping it immediately. "It bit me!" she pouted. 

"Pity," Petyr commented. They both mounted their horses again and continued their journey.


End file.
